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Mario's obsessive fanclub

The Guardian Phalanx

The atmosphere in the grand foyer had shifted from a lively, chaotic castle to something resembling a high-security vault. The air was thick with a protective tension that made SMG4’s skin crawl. He stood by the staircase, clutching his laptop to his chest like a shield, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of confusion and genuine fear.

Mario was currently sitting on a plush, velvet ottoman that Saiko had dragged from the upstairs lounge specifically for him. He was happily swinging his legs, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on the pasta-themed game Tari had given him. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that four of the most dangerous women in the Mushroom Kingdom were standing in a literal diamond formation around him, their eyes scanning the room for the slightest hint of a threat.

"Hey, guys," SMG4 started, taking a cautious step forward. "I was thinking... maybe we should go to the park? You know, get some fresh air? Mario loves the park."

The reaction was instantaneous. Meggy’s head snapped toward him, her goggles reflecting the sunlight in a way that made her look like a predatory bird. "The park? In the open? Where anyone could just... walk up to him?"

"Where there are pigeons that might poop on his hat?" Tari added, her mechanical eye whirring as it zoomed in on SMG4’s sweating face. "Or sharp sticks? Or... or *strangers*?"

"He’s Mario!" SMG4 threw his hands up, nearly dropping his computer. "He’s survived being shot out of cannons, flattened by Thwomps, and eaten by Bowser on a weekly basis! I think he can handle a park!"

Saiko stepped forward, the heavy head of her hammer cracking the floor tile beneath her. "That was before. Things are different now, Glitchy. He’s... he’s too vulnerable. Look at him."

They all looked. Mario had just successfully navigated a ravioli-themed platform and let out a small, triumphant "Wahoo!" before giggling to himself. He looked up, noticed Karen standing behind him, and leaned his head back against her apron-clad stomach.

"Karen, can Mario have a chocolate milk?" he asked, his eyes wide and pleading. "With the little straw that bends? Please?"

Karen, the woman who once threatened to sue the entire kingdom over a misplaced decimal point on a paycheck, reached down and gently stroked Mario’s mustache. Her claws were retracted, her touch as soft as silk. "Of course, Mario. I have a special stash in the back. Only the best for you."

She moved toward the cafe nook, but as she passed SMG4, she leaned in close, her voice a low, guttural hiss. "If you try to take him outside without a full tactical escort, I will make sure your internet browser history is leaked to the public. All of it."

SMG4 turned pale. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," Karen purred before walking away to prepare the milk.

Luigi, who had been hiding behind a large potted plant, finally plucked up the courage to speak. "M-Mario? Do you want to go home? To our house? I made some-a nice salad."

Mario looked at Luigi, then looked at the girls. Melony was currently using her sword—still in its sheath, thankfully—to sharpen a pencil for Mario in case he wanted to draw. She looked up at Luigi, her gaze heavy and somber.

"The green one is loud," Melony whispered, her voice echoing with a strange, otherworldly resonance. "Mario stays here. It is safer. The walls are thick."

"I'm his brother!" Luigi wailed, his knees shaking. "I've lived with him for thirty-five years!"

"And in those thirty-five years, you let him get kicked by turtles and dropped into lava," Saiko pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your track record is pathetic, Luigi. We’re taking over the security detail."

Tari nodded fervently, her blue hair bobbing. "We’ve set up a perimeter. I’ve already hacked into the castle’s security cameras and installed AI-targeted turrets that recognize Mario’s DNA. If anyone who isn't 'Mario-friendly' gets within five feet of him, they get hit with a high-voltage stun-bolt."

"Is that even legal?" Fishy Boopkins asked, poking his head out from behind a sofa.

"It's necessary," Meggy said firmly. She walked over to Mario and adjusted his red cap, pulling it down slightly so it sat perfectly straight. "Red, you just stay here and play your game. Don't worry about anything. We’ve got your back."

Mario looked up from the screen, a bit of confusion finally breaking through his spaghetti-induced haze. "Meggy? Why is everyone being so nice? Did Mario die? Is this the pasta-heaven?"

Meggy’s expression softened into something so tender it actually made SMG4 feel like he was intruding on a private moment. She knelt down in front of him, taking his gloved hands in hers. "No, Red. You’re not dead. We just realized... we realized how much we need to take care of you. You’re the heart of this team. And hearts are fragile."

"Mario’s heart is made of pepperoni!" Mario corrected her proudly, patting his chest.

"Exactly," Meggy whispered, her eyes shining with an intensity that bordered on the fanatical. "And we’re going to make sure nobody ever takes a bite out of it."

Karen returned with a glass of chocolate milk, complete with the requested bending straw. She held it for him as he sipped, her eyes darting around the room like a secret service agent scanning a crowd.

Suddenly, the heavy front doors of the castle creaked open. Swagmaster and Chris walked in, looking bored and covered in what appeared to be glitter and tank grease.

"Yo, SMG4, we're here to pick up the... uh... thingy," Swagmaster shouted, his voice echoing through the foyer. "Wait, why is everyone standing around the fat guy like he’s a golden idol? Is there a cult? Can I join? Do I get a cool hat?"

The temperature in the room plummeted.

Saiko’s hammer was in her hands in a heartbeat. Meggy’s Splattershot was up, aimed directly at Swagmaster’s visor. Tari’s eyes turned a bright, neon red, and Melony’s Fierce Deity mask began to glow with a terrifying, ethereal light.

"Identify yourselves," Saiko growled, her voice vibrating with a threat of extreme violence.

"Whoa, chill out, Pinky!" Swagmaster laughed, oblivious to the fact that he was seconds away from being erased from existence. "It's just me, Swag. The most handsome man in the building. Chris is here too, but nobody cares about him."

"Step back from the plumber," Meggy commanded, her finger tightening on the trigger. "You are encroaching on his personal space."

Chris, who had significantly more survival instinct than his partner, immediately put his hands up. "We're leaving. We're going. Swag, shut up and turn around."

"But I wanted to see if Mario wanted to go look at my new rocket launcher!" Swag protested. "It’s shaped like a giant—"

"HE IS NOT GOING ANYWHERE NEAR AN EXPLOSIVE!" Tari screamed, her voice cracking with a rare burst of protective fury. "HE COULD GET A BOO-BOO!"

The sheer volume of Tari’s shout sent Swagmaster stumbling back. Mario, startled by the noise, dropped his handheld game. It hit the floor with a plastic *clack*.

The silence that followed was heavy and terrifying.

Mario looked down at his dropped game, his lower lip beginning to tremble. "My... my pasta level... I was almost at the lasagna boss..."

The girls froze. They looked at the dropped game, then they looked at Mario’s quivering lip, and then they turned their collective gaze toward Swagmaster.

"You... you made him drop it," Saiko whispered. It was the kind of whisper that preceded a hurricane.

"Swag, run," Chris said, his voice flat and full of resignation.

"Why? I didn't—"

Before Swagmaster could finish, the girls moved as a single, coordinated unit of destruction. Saiko swung her hammer, sending a shockwave across the floor that knocked Swagmaster off his feet. Meggy unleashed a barrage of orange ink that blinded him, while Melony vanished in a blur of green light, reappearing behind him and delivering a swift, non-lethal but incredibly painful kick to his backside.

"GET OUT!" they screamed in unison.

Swagmaster and Chris scrambled out of the castle, the heavy doors slamming shut behind them with such force that the entire building shook. Tari immediately dove for the floor, picking up Mario’s game and checking it for scratches with the precision of a diamond cutter.

"It’s okay, Mario! It’s okay!" she sobbed, her voice frantic. "The game is fine! Look! You’re still on the lasagna boss! See?"

Mario sniffled, taking the game back. "Oh. Okay. Mario is happy again."

He went right back to mashing buttons, leaning his head against Meggy’s shoulder as she sat on the floor next to him. She wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close, her eyes never leaving the front door.

SMG4, Luigi, and Boopkins were huddled in a corner, watching the display with wide eyes.

"We have to do something," SMG4 whispered, his voice trembling. "They’ve lost it. They’ve completely lost it. They’re treating him like a... like a porcelain doll!"

"But look at him," Boopkins pointed out, gesturing toward Mario.

Mario was currently being fanned by Karen with a large leaf she’d found in a decorative vase, while Saiko sat on his other side, letting him use her arm as a rest for his game. He looked more relaxed and pampered than he had in his entire life. He was humming a little tune, kicking his feet, and occasionally taking a sip of his chocolate milk.

"He’s never been this well-behaved," Luigi admitted, a hint of jealousy in his voice. "Usually, by this time of day, he’s set the kitchen on fire or tried to eat the mailman."

"Because they’re giving him everything he wants!" SMG4 hissed. "They’re enabling him! And worse, they’re going to kill anyone who even looks at him funny! We’re living in a Mario-centric police state!"

"I mean... is that really a bad thing?" Boopkins asked. "The castle is usually so loud and explode-y. It’s kind of peaceful right now."

As if to prove him wrong, the sound of a distant explosion echoed from outside. The girls all stiffened, their heads turning toward the window in perfect synchronization.

"Threat detected," Tari’s mechanical voice chirped.

"I’ll handle it," Saiko said, standing up and cracking her knuckles.

"No, I’ll go," Meggy countered, her hand on her Splattershot. "You stay here and make sure the air quality around Red stays optimal."

"I'll go," Melony said, her hand already on the hilt of her blade. "I can sense their life force. They are... unkind."

"Wait!" Mario shouted, looking up from his game.

The girls stopped instantly, turning to him with expressions of pure devotion. "Yes, Mario? What is it? Do you need more milk? A pillow? A kingdom?"

Mario pointed to the TV across the room. "Mario wants to watch his favorite show! The one with the dancing spaghetti!"

"Of course, Mario," Karen said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. She turned to SMG4. "Guardian. Remote. Now."

SMG4 didn't even argue. He scrambled across the room, grabbed the remote, and handed it to Karen as if he were passing a live grenade. She clicked the TV on, and within seconds, a brightly colored cartoon of dancing pasta began to play.

Mario clapped his hands, his eyes glued to the screen. The girls settled around him, forming a living wall of protective muscle and magic. Saiko sat to his left, Meggy to his right, Tari behind him, and Melony at his feet. Karen stood guard a few feet away, her eyes scanning the ceiling for any falling dust motes that might irritate Mario’s nose.

Luigi sighed, sitting down on the floor next to SMG4. "I guess this is our life now."

"I give it twenty-four hours before they decide the sun is too bright for him and try to blow it up," SMG4 muttered, opening his laptop and trying to focus on his work.

But as he watched Mario laugh at a dancing meatball, surrounded by the most powerful protectors he could ever ask for, SMG4 couldn't help but notice something. For the first time in years, Mario looked safe. He looked happy. He looked... loved.

Even if that love was terrifying, obsessive, and likely to result in several international incidents, it was there.

Mario reached out and blindly grabbed Meggy’s hand, squeezing it as he laughed at a joke on the screen. Meggy’s face turned a shade of red that rivaled Mario’s shirt, and she squeezed back, her expression softening into a look of pure, unadulterated joy.

"Love you, Red," she whispered.

"Love you too, Meggy! Love everyone!" Mario chirped, his eyes never leaving the TV. "Now be quiet, the rigatoni is about to do a flip!"

The girls immediately went silent, their collective gaze fixed on the screen, ready to fight, kill, or die for the man who just wanted to see a piece of pasta do a somersault.

In the corner of the room, Bob peeked his head through a ventilation duct. He looked at the scene, saw the weapons, saw the glowing eyes, and saw the absolute wall of protection surrounding the plumber.

"Yeah, screw this," Bob whispered to himself, sliding back into the darkness. "I'm going to go see if Wario wants to start a podcast. It's safer."

The castle remained silent, save for the sounds of the cartoon and Mario’s happy giggles. The Red Magnetism had taken hold, and for the crew of SMG4, the world would never be the same again. Mario was no longer just a dumb spaghetti lover; he was the center of a very dangerous, very beautiful, and very pink universe.